Someone Mourns the Wicked
by frodoschick
Summary: NO ONE MOURNS THE WICKED! cried the crowd, celebrating the death of the Wicked Witch of the West. But...is that true...?


My first Wicked fanfic! YAY!

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Disclaimer-I own nothing Wicked related...or even Oz related...

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Dedication-To Elphaba, and Galinda, and Fiyero, and love to all!!

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The large mob of peoples from all across the land of Oz stood, still and silent. They stared fixedly at a balcony that protruded from the wall of the Wizard's Palace in the Emerald City. Their green spectacles glinted in the hot summer sun. Sweat beaded on their brows, and yet they did not move. It remained silent. A tall cloaked figure stood in the back of the crowd, hood drawn up, even though the sun beat down heavily, unmercifully. 

Suddenly, the crowd drew in it's breath as one. The respected figure of Madame Morrible stood on the balcony, shimmering in a robe of green silk, fur and jewels. The very air seemed to hum with the barely contained anticipation of the crowd. Madame Morrible held up her hands for silence. Many people rolled their eyes.

_"Get to the news already!"_ thought many a Winkie and Munchkin.

"The Wicked Witch of the West," cried Madame Morrible, her voice enhanced by a loud spell, "...At last...is DEAD!"

The mob exploded with cheers, whistles, screams of excitement. Wine bottles were popped, confetti was thrown and people kissed total strangers. It was as if the New Year had come months ahead of time.

"HURRAH FOR THE WITCH HUNTERS!" shouted Madame Morrible, thrusting Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin-Man, and the Cowardly Lion forward. The cheers grew louder and longer. Many people tried to toss roses and flowers into the balcony only to have them fall back to earth. Dorothy waved shyly as the Tin-Man acted like he had done it all himself.

The Scarecrow's eyes flitted about the crowd searching for a familiar face he was sure would be here. His eyes fell upon the cloaked figure, and, after a moment, he smiled.

The figure smiled in the hiding darkness of their cloak's hood.

"No-one mourns the wicked..." said a muffled but clearly female voice. Several people started crying out different exclamations of joy, each person wanted desperately to be heard.

"At last there's joy...!"

"Good news...!"

"Wickedness was punished...!"

"Thank goodness...!"

But then, there was a saying that quickly grew into a chant of bloodthirsty savages.

"NO-ONE MOURNS THE WICKED!"

The hooded figure chuckled, and melted away into the shadows as the more radical members of the mob began to erect a giant wooden tombstone with the legend "THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST AT LAST IS DEAD"

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The celebration lasted all day and well into the night. When the last of the revelers had gone to their bars and their temples and their massage parlors, the other inhabitants of the Emerald City came out of hiding. Cats, Dogs, Mice and other Animals from outside of the Emerald City walls. They all came bearing flowers, and brooms. 

The town-square had been littered with trash and the remnants of celebratory things. The giant tombstone had been moved about, lifted up and set upon the marble stairs. Things had been thrown at it and litter crowded the steps. Rotton fish, squishy fruit, rocks and other things were piled up at the bottom and the tombstone itself bore stains like blood upon it's woodwork.

There sounded several sniffs, and a sob or two. A mother rabbit wiped the tears from her youngest's eyes. They bowed their heads in a small prayer, then set to work. The trash was swept up and thrown away, and the steps were shined. Then they worked on the tombstone itself, scrubbing away the stains and the crude, ugly legend that dishonored their hero.

As the wood dried in the harsh moonlight, they gathered in a circle and debated what to put instead of " THE WICKED WITCH OF THE WEST AT LAST IS DEAD". They finally made an agreement and as they stood to paint it on, they noticed a cloaked figure standing in the center of the square, watching them.

"May we help you?" asked a Cat, stepping forward primly.

"What is this for?" whispered the figure, obviously awe-struck.

"Phhht." snorted a Bear. "As if you don't know. Elphaba is now dead, and the savages of this land celebrated today. We are doing what we can to clean her memorial and honor her, for she fought the Not-So-Wonderful-Wizard and what he is doing to us Animals of Oz."

Several Animals nodded, and there were several agreements phrases.

"But...but...why...? She was the Wicked-"

"Don't you _dare_ mock her!" cried the littlest rabbit, brandishing a small brush at the figure. "She was wonderful! She fought and died for what she believed in! Don't you mock her!" His mother swept up to him and quickly silenced him.

"I'm sorry if he has offended you," she said, pushing him back to his brothers and sisters. "But he says what we all think."

"I understand..." murmured the figure. "I guess...someone mourns the wicked...You don't know what this means to me."

"What do you mean?" asked the Cat, giving her a calculating look. The figure reached up, grasped the hood of the cloak and pulled it down. All of the Animals gasped.

"Elphaba..." they all whispered, like it was the answer to a prayer. The littlest rabbit slowly hopped over to her as the rest watched. Elphaba knelt, her green skin luminous in the moonlight. He reached out a delicate paw, and gently touched the outstretched hand. He froze as they touched, but she didn't vanish. He began to cry, and Elphaba swept him up into an embrace.

"You darling little thing...What you said was one of the sweetest things anybody has ever said to me...thank you..."

"Will you stay?" asked the Bear, lumbering forward, eyes shining with hope.

Elphaba sighed heavily. "No...no I cannot."

"But-!" cried the bunny in her arms. She shushed it.

"Think about it. Everyone believes that I am dead. If I was suddenly to resurrect, what would happen?"

Every Animal nodded and regretted. "But what will you do?" asked a Mouse, scurrying up to her shoe.

"I am waiting for someone..." she said, putting down the littlest bunny.

"ELPHABA!" cried a voice from behind her. She quickly turned, and looked full into the eyes of the Scarecrow.

"FIYERO!" she cried, running to him. He caught her up his strong arms, and they spun around, laughing and giggling. "Oh...Yero..."she whispered, hugging him so tightly that his stuffing almost fell out.

"I told them that I needed to go on a journey. They don't suspect a thing. Oh, Elphie, I missed you!" They kissed, the harsh moonlight softened and it glowed about them with the unearthly quality of love. They broke apart as a happy sigh sounded. The mother rabbit was wiping her eyes.

"Oh...I just love happy endings!" she cried, dabbing at her eyes with a Fox's tail. Elphaba laughed. She looked at all of animals, more understanding than even her own family had been. She loved them too.

"Remember...this didn't happen." she said in a conspiratorial whisper. "I wasn't here...so...shhhh!" she giggled again, and Fiyero took her hand. They started running, and soon they were gone, the echos of their laughter reverberating off of the dull stones.

Suddenly, it was if they never were there, and the Animals had dreamed it all...

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First Wicked fanfic...tell me if you enjoyed it... 


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